


The Second Time

by ama



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28824084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ama/pseuds/ama
Summary: Kamet asks a series of hypothetical questions, and Costis gives him frustratingly simple answers.
Relationships: Kamet/Costis Ormentiedes
Comments: 8
Kudos: 61





	The Second Time

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for short prompts on tumblr and a full eight days later (time isn't real) I finally fulfilled something for luthien's prompt "the second time," interpreted however I want.

Roa’s sea is different from the sea in Attolia or Mede. At least, Costis thinks so. He is no sailor; he can’t speak as to the movement of the tides or the shape of the waves or the condition of the sea floor. But the cliffs that jut up against the sea are jagged and steep, with hardly any beach to speak of. The wind seems cooler and wetter, and the air is thick with the smell of earthy green moss beneath the sharp tang of salt. The birds’ cries are more pleasant (to his ear, if not Kamet’s), and every once in a while Costis is distracted from his ship-watching by an enormous whale breaching the surface of the water.

Today is a beautiful day, and Costis is content. He lies on a patch of grass and listens to the calls of the birds and feels Kamet’s fingers carding through his hair, and every once in a while he opens his eyes to gaze at his face in the strong light that filters through the blanket of grey clouds. It is a lovely face, and it lingers in his mind’s eye as he dozes.

“Costis,” Kamet says, slowly, as if his name and not ‘the Attolian’ was still unfamiliar to him. “Would you still love me if—”

“Yes,” Costis says drowsily.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Doesn’t matter. The answer is yes.”

Kamet’s fingers slow. Costis keeps his eyes closed, so Kamet can think without the pressure of being observed. It really is a fine day. The sun is warm on his face, but the light clouds and the persistent breeze keep the heat from becoming oppressive.

“What if I said that I wanted to stay here in Roa for good?”

“Why should that stop me from loving you? Do I seem like I’m not enjoying myself?”

“Wouldn’t you miss Attolia?”

“We’d visit.”

“What if I said I didn’t want to visit?”

“You would let _me_ visit. Besides,” Costis teases, cracking one eye open. “You have almost as many Attolian friends as I do, now. You would want to come with me.”

“Fine. What if I said I wanted to go somewhere else. Somewhere more remote, where a visit would be more difficult. Like—Brael?”

“You would hate Brael. Your inks would freeze, you would be cold all the time, and you would be the shortest adult in the kingdom. But—” He adds hastily, sensing Kamet is about to bristle. “I would still go with you. I’d hunt one of those white bears and make it into a rug, and we could put it by the hearth and sleep naked on it every night.”

“That sounds… cold.”

“It wouldn’t be,” Costis promises, trying to keep from grinning. Kamet leans down for a kiss. His lips taste of mint tea, and Costis tips his head up uselessly as he draws back too soon.

“You would resent me, after a while.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You would. I’d complain too much. I’d be absolutely useless around the house, and who knows if I’d be any useful outside of it, either, because their language sounds like gargling rocks. I would be completely dependent on you, and eventually you would get sick of me—”

“I like taking care of you.”

Kamet’s hands are no longer in his hair. He leans back on one arm, and somewhere to his left Costis can hear the soft plunks of someone nervously picking at strands of grass.

“I would resent it, being useless. I would be… unkind. I would start to blame you for things that aren’t your fault, and eventually you would weigh your homeland and your family and friends against me, and…”

Costis opens his eyes. Kamet’s voice falters, and they stare at each other for a moment. Kamet is the one who looks away first. He frowns down at the pile of loose grass beside him and brushes it away, to be picked up by the wind or the nesting birds, or the ants and beetles. The ants here are the same as the ones in Attolia, as far as Costis can tell. He shifts out of Kamet’s lap and props himself up on one elbow.

“I love you, Kamet,” he says. The thrill of delight that creeps up his spine is just as strong the second time, and the words come easier. Thinking them was the same. The first time he realized he might love Kamet, the idea walloped him over the head—by the time he reached the docks in Attolia, it was a part of him like any other, undeniable if not unremarkable. “And I know you. Our journey in the Empire may not have been pleasant, but it had one advantage, which is that I have seen you at your worst, your most miserable and your most prickly. I know you and I love you anyway. Nothing would change that.”

“You don’t know it was my worst,” Kamet frowns. “There could be more that I hid from you. I might have depths of unpleasantness you have never probed.”

Costis shakes his head.

“That’s the advantage of you having lied to me for the entire trip. I know what you’re like when you’re lying and hiding things. I won’t be tricked again.”

Kamet draws his knees up and hugs them, staring out over the cliffside, although Costis knows it is nothing more than a blue haze for him. His mouth twitches every once in a while like he is practicing and discarding new arguments.

“Kamet, what is troubling you?” Costis reaches out and takes him by the chin, gently turning his face towards him. “Are you trying to work up the nerve to tell me the king is sending you after some even-more-fascinating scrolls in Brael?”

This earns him a weak smile. Kamet catches his hand and holds it for a moment, dangling in the space between them.

“I can never go back to Medea,” he says quietly. “Probably not Setra, either, even if I remembered anything of it. I felt trapped in Attolia, and… how long can I stay here, waiting for war and lying about my identity, before I begin to feel restless again? What if—what if I don’t belong anywhere?”

“Are you asking me if I would wander with you, Kamet?” Costis tugs abruptly, catching Kamet and rolling, crushing the grass beneath them. The sweet, fresh scent is pleasant, but not as pleasant as the unexpectant breathy laughter that escapes Kamet’s lips.

“You are ridiculous,” Kamet huffs. He wriggles one hand free and rests it on Costis’s cheek.

“Yes. And I love you.”

The words are even sweeter a third time. Kamet draws him down for another kiss, as slow and and sure and inevitable as the tide.


End file.
